Natasha Romanoff one shots

A Simple Favor

*Mature content ahead*
G!P Natasha, Ballet Instructor Natasha x Student Reader, age gap (Reader is 19, Natasha is 39), infidelity, toxic natasha, oral (N receiving), manipulation, innocent reader.

Summary- In this life, to achieve something, you have to work twice as hard as others or maybe you don't?

Yes. This is a new series. Shh.

Your pov:

Your hands collided with the ballet barre as you exhaled yet another breath. Your calves ached painfully from the amount of torture you had endured throughout the course of the practice. You knew you were far from over, with the way your ballet mistress was looking at you all, unimpressed with your skills and efforts, you were bound to stay until she saw fit. She had been on the edge today in particular, which was not something uncommon to see however today she seemed over the edge.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance, before an exhale fell from her lips.
"Again!" She commanded for the umpteenth time. Even though you all had been dancing to the best of your capabilities, with little to no mistakes, the mistress wasn't impressed at all. She looked pissed, as if one more wrong move would trigger her to lash out again. Which again, was not uncommon to happen but at this moment, no one wanted to be the reason for yet another exchange of harsh and degrading words.

The music played again, you followed the dance, just like she had taught you all but it was to no avail because the woman stopped the music once again and she stared at each and every single person in the room. There was nothing but anger in those eyes of hers.
"The recital is in a month." She stated with a scowl on her face.
"The recital. Is in. A month." She repeated once again, her voice laced with pure malice as she enunciated the words.
"You make my choreography seem like shit and I will not have people think that what I teach is shit." She remarked while gritting her teeth.

You don't blame the woman for being the way she currently was. Natasha Romanoff, was once celebrated as one of the finest ballet dancers in the industry, but she now bore the weight of a career-ending injury that left her unable to perform the art she had mastered. Her movements, that were once flawless, were now measured and restrained, yet her eye for perfection remained as sharp as ever.

So it was no surprise as she stood at the front of the studio, watching her students stumble through a routine she had painstakingly choreographed, their steps lacking the precision and emotion she demanded. Fury simmered beneath her calm exterior, how could they squander the opportunity to learn from her expertise?

Natasha's voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding, but inside, frustration gnawed at her. Her injury had taken her ability to dance, but she would not let it take the standard of excellence she'd spent a lifetime cultivating.
"Fix yourselves." Is all she needed to say to have the girls stumbling to grab their bags before heading out of the studio.
"Y/n, stay."

You frowned at the sudden command but listened nonetheless - you didn't want to anger her any further. You placed your bag down, right next to the paino before walking over to her.
"Yes Natasha?"
"Mistress." She corrects you.
"Sorry, mistress." You cursed yourself, feeling quite foolish for calling her by her name since you knew that in this studio, she had her rules about in formalities. But you had spent hours on your feet, dancing without any break and all you wanted was to go back to your home to get rest.

"May I ask why you called me to stay."
"Your solo, I want you to redo it again."
"W-why I thought it was good."
"You clearly don't know the difference between mediocre and good." Ouch.
"Oh."
"I gave you that solo because I saw potential in you, but you're not meeting to my expectations y/n. You're lacking and I want you to fix it." Her statement makes you bow your head in embarrassment.